Alaric sat up abruptly, the mattress groaning under his weight. He didn't care that he was naked; the coldness he felt was inside his chest. He looked at Sofia as if she were a stranger.
"I told you I wanted to be better for you," he said, his voice trembling with a mix of anger and deep hurt. "And all the while, you were just waiting to use me to twist a knife into Damien."
Sofia sat up too, pulling the damp sheets over her body. The high of her revenge was starting to fade, replaced by the stinging reality of Alaric's expression. "It's not like that, Alaric. I do want you. But I wanted him to feel an atom of pain for what he made me go through."
"But you didn't choose me for me," Alaric snapped, standing up and reaching for his discarded clothes. "You chose the one man whose touch would hurt him the most. That's not love, Sofia. That's revenge."
